


Let Love In

by Morgan_Inkeye



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Addiction, Confused Melkor, M/M, Manipulative Mairon, Melkor-centered, Smut, Teasing, Utumno Era, erotism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 19:31:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14119344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgan_Inkeye/pseuds/Morgan_Inkeye
Summary: The beginning of Melkor and Mairon's relationship, beyond the shut doors of the Lord of Utumno's chambers.





	Let Love In

**Author's Note:**

> Hello ! So glad you are stopping by. Expect some erotism, and fair amount of smut. No rape or nasty warnings, be still.  
> Also I wrote this while listening to a lot of Type O Negative and Nick Cave, so... there might be some involuntary references.  
> Enjoy your read ! :)

How could he have known Mairon would be so addictive ? Ever since Melkor had taken him for the first time, a scorching, blistering heat had started devouring him. Every time his mind wandered off to Mairon, a raging pyre consumed him whole from within. For long had he been dreaming of grazing at this skin of velvet, of tasting even the tiniest hint of those sensual lips. Yet protectively wrapped in his pride, he refused to admit such abasing desires.

How could he ? He was of the Valar, not of any lowly species. Longing for _this_ was unelikely of his kin – it was degrading. However, was he not different from his brethern ?...

Perhaps was it why he was so vulnerable to Mairon's witchery. If only he had known ! Maybe would he had reconsidered his deed.

Claiming Mairon's body had only been a means to... further _convince_ him. The Maia had already sworn himself to him. This carnal moment they had shared had been at Mairon's suggestion. How could he have denied it to him ? Melkor could resist many things, yet temptation was none of them. He was a generous Master, was he not ? He had only complied to his freshly rallied Maia's plea. Of course, he had expected everything but this ridiculous obsession.

 

What a lewd sort of magic. Mairon had charmed him with his pretended innocence, and Melkor, all Vala that he was, had thrown his whole self into this alluring trap.

Now his hours of rest were haunted by an unbearable music, of a pleading wanton voice and his own shameful sighs. He was drowning in this ocean of depravity.

 

Fortunately, Mairon had come to his quarters at last. The heavy door had creaked open, and as quietly as a shadow Mairon had slipped inside. Melkor had seen him entering. He had sat up to watch him, and was not disappointed by the sight his servant offered him.

A nightgown of deep, red silk hung loosely on his jutting shoulders, and was tied at his waist. And the drapery of his fire hair was curling down his body, to caress with its ends the sensuous curve of his hips. Mairon had held his eyes with great respect, despite his debauched seeming.

 

Melkor finally decided to get up. He went to this lovely creature, deliberately making himself slow, in an attempt to impose his domination.

Yet no matter how he behaved, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself _he_ was the predator, this willing prey was master of their confrontation. Mairon wore a mask of docile submission, but the playful smile that dug tiny dimples upon his cheeks suggested otherwise. This half-hidden insolence was awakening the fire that had been pooling in Melkor for so long, and was starting to spread mercilessly. He could not resist this living flame.

 

He stood behind him now, so close to him he could almost feel the soft silk against his bare chest. He had not bothered covering his nudity – this moment already foreshadowed what was to come.

He laid his hands on Mairon's shoulders, and sensed him tensing. He gently rubbed the fine muscles there, through this fabric that seemed so hideously _rough_ in comparison with the skin that waited beyond. Carefully he pulled him closer, and leant on at his ear. His lips were barely brushing there. Melkor closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling the delicacy of Mairon's scent. He could not describe, neither remember it afterwards, as though it came from a mere dream. And this fragance invaded him, bathed him in arousing emanations.

He gathered some sense, and asked Mairon in a whisper why he had come. His Maia shook briefly, as though by expertly-hidden laughter, and let his head hang back. He offered Melkor a perfect sight on his pulsing throat, on his half-covered chest.

 _Need_ was burning on Melkor's lips – the need to paint this porcelain skin with brusing kisses. He needed to mark him as his own.

 

''I came here drawn by your desire.'' Mairon breathed out.

 

An amused smile bloomed on his lips, and swiftly he spun around.

The Maia took one step back. He maintained contact with Melkor's eyes, as he caressed his own lips with one sharp, red-painted fingernail. His other hand ghosted down his chest. He trailed with enfuriating slowness towards his waist, until he finally reached the one clasp that held the gown in place. He undid it, and the raiment slid down his voluptuous figure.

 

Melkor beheld him in silence. He detailed every inch of Mairon's body – his impish smile, his gracious neck, the slim muscles of his arms and stomach. He dared glancing lower, and unconsciously licked his lips.

How shameful, to be so astonished by a mere Maia. This foolish one had such insolent pride in his beauty ! Yet Melkor could not deny the obvious : no matter how scandalously Mairon displayed himself, he was a real treasure. And his lecherous smile was charring the Vala to the core. Could he truly even _pretend_ to resist ?

 

As though pulled by unseen hands, he found himself against this allegory of desire. Melkor tilted his chin up with one finger, and let his other hand wrap around his throat. _He_ possessed Mairon. Not the reverse. Yet his servant still stared into his eyes, faking submission even as he worked his filthy magic.

How bold of him, to look upon his Master with such blatant hunger. Melkor could punish him for this. He could bury his hand in Mairon's lascivious mane and clench his fist at the root. Then he would bend him to his will, ignore his whimpers and tie him down. How exquisitely would he hurt him. He would have him implore, and with cruelty he would wait to give him release. He would test his limits, and rape him until he could moan no more.

And then, only then would he cup his chin, and ask his senseless Maia if it were what he wanted with such ardour.

But even then, he would not be the one in control. Mistreating him would change nothing : he knew that even as Mairon would moan and beg, even as he would helplessly clench around him, _he_ would be the one to pull the strings.

And oddly enough, the idea did not displease Melkor. It rather was... exciting.

 

He leant on to pose a kiss on Mairon's lips, and immediatly his tormentor responded. He pressed back, even as his Master's hand was starting to deprive him of air.

 

''Danger,'' Melkor growled low. ''You seem to enjoy toying with it. How imprudent do you wish to be, tell me ?'' He held tighter. ''How far are you willing to go ?''

 

To this Mairon narrowed his eyes, and simply let his hands slide down to his Master's waist.

 

''As far as you allow me to,'' he purred.

 

Mairon embraced his Master just as tightly as the pressure on his throat, and claimed another devouring kiss. Melkor decided to give it all up. He let go of his throat and wound both his hands in Mairon's mane, pulling him ever closer. His obedient servant parted his warm, soft lips for him, and moaned in ease as their tongues met. Yet prude dances were not at Melkor's taste. He bit in Mairon's tender lip, and his desire rose high in their bloody kisses. His hands moved down to caress his Maia's back, his sides, his hips, where they finally remained possessively.

 

''Your behaviour could receive retribution,'' he threatened. ''Is it how you pretend to accomplish your duty ? The Lord you serve has no care for a whore.''

 

Mairon chuckled. and wrapped his lean arms around his neck. He obviously paid no heed to this menace.

 

''Am I not here to soothe your hidden desires also ?''

 

Melkor's hands twitched on his hips.

 

''The Lord I serve will have me as His faithful lieutenant, by His side on battle,'' he declared almost solemnly. ''Or as His devoted, willing harlot, on my back or knees.''

 

It was enough. He silenced him with a fierce kiss, holding him so tightly it could have been painful. He pressed this undecent Maia against his own aroused form, and controlling each of their movements, he forced Mairon to step back, until his long legs hit the edge of the bed. He let out a surprised cry as Melkor pushed him down violently. His Master pinned him still, holding his wrists in his talons, and parting his thighs with his knees.

 

For a moment Mairon looked alarmed – afraid, even. Melkor smirked as he felt he had regained control. Letting his servant no time to revolt, he posed his lips, and a kiss on his warm throat. Yet it soon turned to a bruise, and Mairon desperately writhed under him, trying to at least close his thighs. It only encouraged Melkor to continue. He moved his merciless kiss higher, just under Mairon's ear, where he noticed a special sensitivity. He switched between teeth and tongue, damaging and soothing. How delightful was it, to feel Mairon's body react without control.

He now laid on him, pressing their aroused members together, and started to slowly grind against the helpless form underneath him.

Mairon's breath grew ragged as his Master set a steady pace. Melkor finally let go of the now bloody bruise, and gave a swift lick on his earlobe.

 

''Is the _devoted, willing harlot_ a bit unsure ?'' he teased. ''Will you not comply to your Master's hidden desires ?

 

''I always will, Master,'' he let out in a shattered sigh.

 

Melkor could not ignore the wave of heat those simple words sent through him. He progressively let go of his Maia's wrists, and increased the pace of their grinding. Mairon's hips were now moving too. His gracious hands cupped his face as Melkor posed his forehead on Mairon's own, and could not resist closing his eyes for a moment. He savoured every little sound that came through those perfect lips.

 

Who was the toy ? Who was the one to be played with ? He could not tell, and did not want to. All he knew was that he desired him.

 

''I can be any way you want me to,'' Mairon moaned. ''You need only ask.''

 

''Just be mine,'' he grunted. ''Be as you are. Be the one for whom I fell.''

 

_Be the living pyre that consumes me. Be this image of lust you implanted in my mind. Be the weakness, the shame my divinity bears. Be my secret passion known to none._

 

Melkor turned him around. As he laid on him he noticed the little sigh of satisfaction Mairon let out. His Maia had been longing for this too.

He took his time to prepare him, waving away the desire to take him rawly. As much as he wanted it, he wished even more hearing the pleasured sounds Mairon was endeavouring to hold back. The sharp moan he let out, as Melkor pushed one finger into him, was particularily delectable. He noted every response of his servant : his hands clenching into fists on the sheets, the slight frown he could not hide, betraying a hint of pain beyond his keen desire. Melkor kissed his shoulder, and trailed up to his ear.

 

''Tell me what you need,'' he whispered there, as he slid another finger inside. ''I want to hear you.''

 

''I want it all,'' Mairon plaintively moaned. ''All you wish to give me.''

 

A naughty grin stretched Melkor's features. He nibbled at the ear's tip, savouring the whimper Mairon let out as he added a third finger. He started to move them, slowly in and out, curving and crooking them with mastered patience.

Such beautiful music was Mairon singing – pleasure and pain chanted as one. His moans, his sighs, his muttered words of eagerness, confusedly begging for more. He ceased moving for a moment, letting Mairon breathe. He looked upon his reddened, tensed features, and wondered what was holding him back.

 

He could choose to ignore Mairon's enjoyment and fuck him crudely, for his own gratification. He could palm this delicate little mouth, and shove his erected member deep into this tight body. Hold his hip with one hand, push Mairon's face in the bed with the other...

 

_Not now. Not tonight._

 

He slid his fingers out, leaving Mairon for a brief moment as he coated his own length with slickness. His Maia was watching him from his uncomfortable angle, his eye dark, heavy with lustful appetite.

 

When at last Melkor was atop him again, and the head of his member brushed at his entrance, he buried his face in the sheets, muffling there his impatient whine.

One hand went under his hips, lifting them up a little, just enough for Melkor to take his Maia's member in hand. He stroked him gently, refusing to give in to hastiness, though his capricious servant was growing truly avid.

Mairon moved his hips, meeting either with his Master's hand around him, or with the thick member probing at his hole. And the more he moved, the firmer Melkor pressed in, trapping him in restrained motions. Mairon turned his head to give him a furious glance, to which the Vala only smirked.

 

''I told you,'' he growled low. ''I want to hear you.''

 

_Say it. Say those words that haunt my sleep._

 

''Fuck me,'' Mairon breathed out in frustration.

 

He could not oppose such a delightful command. He slightly slid in, giving Mairon all the time he needed to adapt to the generous size of his length. Melkor kept in control of his movements, yielding not to his burning desire. He stroked his Maia softly, just enough to help him relax. And accompaigning his gestures were his whispered words at Mairon's ear. He praised him, told him how great he felt.

 

Mairon's breath was choked, shattered by the intrusion that hurt him so exquisitely. His agape mouth let out uncontrolled whimpers as his Master began to move.

Melkor kept his pace gentle at first, yet this kindness did not linger. Mairon's body was addictive, and each thrust made him want more of this tight heat. Deeper. Harder. He _needed_ to see Mairon break, to hear his voice fly out of control. He took his hips with both hands, and sank fully with one firm thrust.

Mairon shrieked at the sudden shift. He muffled his distorsed voice into the pillows, hiding his tears there. His Master was ramming ruthlessly into him, sheerly using his pliant yet sensitive flesh. It was so painful. There was no pleasure in this. He was being torn apart, each crude motion sending him on the brink of fainting. He must have let out a pitiful plea, for the cadence slew down. The hurt decreased as one hand went back to stroke him, and he felt his Master bending closer. Contrary to all he expected, Melkor's voice was surprisingly soft.

 

''Are you alright ?''

 

''I am,'' Mairon exhaled, though his face dampened by sweat and tears screamed he was not. ''It is not about _my_ pleasure.''

 

Melkor clicked his tongue, and posed a gentle kiss on his cheek. He lowered them both on the mattress, pressing his full weight upon his Maia.

Mairon hissed at the feeling of his member being compressed between the sheets and his own body. But his Master's form, molding to his own, felt tremendously good. Melkor was in, and on him at once, and the slightest movement he made was hitting _this_ special spot.

 

Ah, how wonderful did it feel, to finally have his Master caressing him so deep ! Mairon had spent some of his lonely nights exploring his body, with his God's image in his mind. How violent had been his release, when he at last recreated the sensations the Vala had given him on their first night together. And now Melkor was here again, drowning him in such filthy pleasure. Mairon could almost hear the grin of satisfaction in his deep sigh.

 

''There is no point if you do not enjoy it too,'' he groaned at his ear. ''And I wish to hear your lovely voice.''

 

He started rocking his hips again. Melkor moved so deliciously within him, he could hardly hold back his moans anyway. This stabbing feeling melted with the blistering friction on his length, and in this whirl of sensations he was losing hold.

This was what he wanted. His God to take him whole, without care if it were right or not. A victorious smile curled his lips as he heard Melkor breathing erratically at his ear, letting himself being carried away too. His release was close, despite his attempt to control it. Mairon moved his hips to meet his thrusts, and he earned a moan from the Vala.

 

''Are you soaring, my dear Master ?'' he provoked, though his own voice betrayed his condition. ''Will you fill me up before _I_ spill ?''

 

Mairon _would_ have him first.

 

Melkor answered him with a low grunt. The Maia let out an overstrung laughter, and clenched himself around his Master, making himself as tight as possible. Melkor's pace increased, as his breath went unsteady, and soon he reached his peak. He bit in Mairon's shoulder to silence himself, though it did not have much effect.

He stayed buried deep within his Maia, but as he felt Mairon's release approaching too, he withdrawn and flipped him around.

 

Mairon gave him an enraged glance, to which the Vala answered with a wild kiss. He devoured his mouth as he reached down to stroke him, and had Mairon moan helplessly in their kiss. The Maia clung to his Master's shoulders, his mind lost at the edge of his climax.

It all was overwhelming – Melkor's hand around him, his tongue and teeth mistreating his mouth, the hot, sticky mess within him. He could do nothing to prevent the unforgiving tensing of every of his muscles. He came with intensity, and for a moment, everything was blurry.

 

Melkor watched him come apart, stroking him until he shook no more. His hand was coated with his Maia's fluid, and some of it glistened on Mairon's milky skin. A naughty thought flashed across his mind. With a grin he leant down to Mairon's stomach, and licked him clean. He heard faint sighs, as two trembling hands gently caressed his hair.

When he looked up and met Mairon's eyes, he gave him a wide smile. He crawled up on him, and posed a chaste kiss on his lips.

 

''How filthy, my Lord,'' Mairon chuckled. ''Abasing yourself to this... I would feel guilty to make you enjoy swallowing me.''

 

Melkor looked down with sly eyes. He sighed as he propped himself up, and sat up on the edge of the bed. Mairon soon imitated him. He came to rest his chin on his Master's shoulder. Melkor reached behind to take one slim hand in his own, and brought it to his mouth. He kissed the long, gracile fingers, the soft palm, the inside of the pale wrist.

 

''This has to remain secret,'' he said. ''None shall hear of this.''

 

''It needs not being instructed,'' Mairon nodded. ''Never would I have said a word of this.''

 

''Good,'' Melkor grunted. Yet as dominant as he wished to present himself now, he still held his Maia's hand with gentleness, almost reluctant to let it go.

 

''If you were to require my presence here again,'' Mairon whispered, brushing his cheek against his Master's. ''I shall obey every of your desires. I belong to you.''

 

Before Melkor could add anything else, Mairon swiftly got up and picked up his nightgown. He passed it on, tied it loosely at his waist, and glanced at the Vala from behind his shoulder.

 

''May you rest well, my Master,'' he mewled.

 

Melkor nodded, giving him a half-smile. He watched him go. Mairon walked with towards the door, swaying his hips with inherent grace. The Maia opened the door, slipped through it, and was gone as he had come.

 

Melkor stared at the closed door for a long moment, pondering on what had just happened. For sure the fire inside of him had been soothed, yet he already longed for _him_ again. He licked his lips, still tasting Mairon in his mouth.

He let himself fall down on his back, face up to the ceiling at which he gazed senselessly. Such wonderful magic could his Maia bend him to. He was bewitched by this lustful sorcery, and yet... it did not feel unpleasant at all.

He smiled to himself, and sighed. Whatever hex had he been put under, he was glad of this situation.

Melkor closed his exhausted eyes, and soon drifted off, surrounded by the smell of his delightful Maia, and cradled by the sound of his voice, still echoing in his mind.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Do not be shy, let me know what you thought of it !  
> All sorts of comments are most welcome :)


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